


Peckish

by T J Feardorcha (MonsterTesk)



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Fluff, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterTesk/pseuds/T%20J%20Feardorcha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am feeling a little peckish."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peckish

**Author's Note:**

> A timed prompt I wrote at my friend's discretion. The prompt was "Peckish," I had somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes to write it.   
> I've posted it as-is, expect errors.

 

Contrary to popular rumor, Q did eat. Quite often. Possibly more often than most others in his division at least. But his rather scrawny body gave off the appearance of a starved man though that was hardly ever the case. There had been many a time when new members (and even some older ones who persisted in a belief long-proven to be false) who tried to force large meal after meal on to Q. 

 

Mostly he turned them down. Not because he wasn't hungry but mostly because many of his coworkers could not cook for shit. There was a reason they went into the business of espionage instead of culinary and it was something painfully (and gastricaly) evident to Q. The things his coworkers had forced him to eat generally made his bones shudder and his sphincter tighten in preparation for the coming horrors. 

 

With this knowledge, it would be easy to see why Q would be wary of such an approach from a certain agent who never returned any of his equipment in one piece if at all. 

 

"Actually," he said, "I am feeling a little peckish."

 

His hesitance was for good reason, Q decided four hours and one trip to the A&E later. Bond's cooking was, by far, not only the worst but the most toxic food he'd ever eaten. The doctors had been frankly surprised he didn't need to be admitted for more testing and they wholesale refused to believe that it was a turkey sandwich that put him there. 

 

How Bond had managed to somehow turn something as simple as putting pre-made meats and dressing on a slice of store-bought bread into poison was beyond Q. 

But then again, so was Q's new-found desire to teach Bond how to properly prepare foodstuffs into actually edible (and, most importantly, nontoxic) items was as well. 


End file.
